Kiss Goodnight
by kellyyouse
Summary: Scully, slightly dazed from a lack of sleep, can't resist temptation when Mulder falls asleep at her house and initiates a change in their relationship she couldn't imagine.
1. A Kiss is Still a Kiss

**Disclaimer:** X-Files and its characters are owned by 20th Century Fox and Chris Carter. I just borrowed them for a few hours :)

**Author's Note:** I wrote this story and my other _X-Files_ fanfic a number of years ago and thought it time to upload to this community.

**Kiss Goodnight **

**Chapter 1: A Kiss is Still a Kiss**

Scully yawned and stretched her legs out. She expected Mulder any minute. They'd just finished the field work on a case--a long, harrowing 36 hour stakeout--and she'd wanted to do nothing more than take a long hot bath and sleep through the next day. But Skinner had demanded a preliminary report, so she and Mulder were up to their necks in paperwork for the evening. Earlier, she'd wanted to slap Mulder for suggesting they work at her place, but now she was grateful. It was much more comfortable, and she got to relax on the sofa.

When the doorbell rang, she knew it was him. They'd had a symbiosis almost from the moment they'd met; she would've thought something like that rather silly before, but with her and Mulder, she didn't need to question it. "Come in, Mulder--the door's open," she yelled from the sofa, her legs unwilling to conform to manners and carry her to the door.

"You know, Scully, you shouldn't leave you door open like this," Mulder said as he entered. "Any nut could get in."

"That was the point, Mulder," she responded, smiling lightly.

"Oh," Mulder whispered, clutching his chest in a mocking way. "I'm hurt."

"I'll really hurt you if we don't get this paperwork done."

"Mmmmm. Sounds like that could be fun." He gave her his usual smirk.

Scully rolled her eyes, conceding defeat to yet another battle of humor. "Come on, Mulder." She gestured to the sofa. "Let's get this done with."

"All right, all right." He slipped his overcoat off, revealing black jeans and a black t-shirt.

Scully watched him. It wasn't often that she saw him in something other than a suit and tie so she studied the unfamiliar image of her partner closely, taking him in with the unknowing eye of a stranger. He looked good in black. Really good. It had a way of making the soft curves of his face stand out, his delicate pink lips. . .

"Taste good?"

"Hmm?" His words jarred her back to consciousness, her mind trying to interpret exactly what he'd meant when he said that. She hadn't been staring that long, had she? After a moment, though, she'd realized that she'd been furiously chewing a pen, so she yanked it out of her mouth. "Oh, this?"

"What else?" Mulder shrugged his shoulder.

"Nothing." Scully tore her eyes from him and picked up a file from the coffee table. "I'm just a little dazed from not sleeping." She handed him the file as he sat on the opposite end of the couch.

"I know what you mean. I would have fallen asleep in the car if my damn radio hadn't gotten stuck on this dance station playing the 'Macarena' over and over. You know, I may now be able to speak fluent Spanish." He gave her one of his patented smiles then paged through the file she'd given him.

Scully closed her eyes and added that smile to the ones she'd catalogued in her mind. It was nice to be able to remember them--especially when she and Mulder were at odds. Thinking of the smiles he reserved for her helped her know that everything would be all right. His curved lips just looked so sweet.

"Scully, are you asleep?" Mulder asked, lightly pressing his hand on her shoulder.

She shuddered at his touch. "No, I was, uh, just trying to remember something." She wanted to reach for a file, a paper, a memo, anything, but her arm felt stuck from the electrical pulses emanating from his fingers through her shoulder. When he finally moved his hand, she grabbed the first thing she saw and shouted in an uncharacteristic high-pitch, "Oh, here it is."

Mulder smiled. "Scully, that's a candy wrapper." He ran his hand through his hair then whispered to her, "You know, if you don't want to do this tonight, we can just tell Skinner to hell with his report and that we needed sleep."

She resisted the urge to look at him. "No, that's all right. I'd rather just get it done now while we're here." She shuffled the papers around, trying to focus on what needed to be done.

"Whatever you say, G-woman," Mulder yawned. "One thing," he said, placing his hand over hers and grinning mischievously, "if I happen to fall asleep, please feel free to take advantage of me any way you want."

**X X X**

They'd been working for what seemed like 6 hours, sorting through avalanches of papers, cassettes, and even scraps with apparently meaningless details scribbled on them, barely speaking to each other except for an occasional "hand me that" or "do you know where such-and-such is." Scully had been a little grateful for the quiet atmosphere, and mostly responsible for it. As the night and their fatigue progressed, Mulder's voice had grown sandpapery, as if it were originating from the back of his throat, and its sound hypnotized her, making her body feel light and liquid. She couldn't let him catch her swaying into a peaceful trance, so she spoke less and less until their conversation dissipated, hoping he thought it was the result of her being tired.

Why he suddenly affected her this way, she couldn't understand. She'd always had the occasional thought--what woman didn't think of any man she knew personally as a possible love interest?--but with her lack of sleep every momentary daydream or fantasy she'd ever had seemed heightened. Before, she'd liked it when he touched her in some way, even just a simple shoulder squeeze to get her attention, but tonight she almost (almost) dreaded his approaching fingers; they regenerated the already explosive electricity coursing through her veins. She'd always felt it when they worked together--from the time she found the marks on her back; the pressure of his eyes on her near-nakedness was overwhelming. Even when he turned around to face her at their first meeting, she'd felt something. But she hadn't actually thought about it, analyzed it, rationalized it.

And as a scientist and FBI agent, she knew that once something seemingly inexplicable was analyzed, there was no turning back until full answers resulted. She convinced herself that this phenomenon was more than likely lack-of-sleep induced and best left to the back of her mind where it would be safe until her self-control returned come morning.

She checked her watch, 3:32am. She decided to break her rule of the evening and look at Mulder, simply to tell him to go home. "Mulder, you can go now," she whispered. But when she looked over, she had to smile. He was sound asleep, papers lingering on his lap, his head arching against the back of the couch. She watched his chest move up and down and for a moment, thought she could see his heart beating.

He was so sweet and peaceful, she thought there would be no harm in letting him spend the night, or at least sleep until he woke up and decided to leave. Scully stretched her arms, then grabbed the blanket she kept on the back of the couch during the winter. Unfolding it, she slid closer to Mulder, his unique smell of sunflower seeds mixed with a musky maleness that she could only describe as pure Mulder enveloping her. She sat there for a moment, taking advantage of the singular opportunity to watch him, take in his scent closely without him knowing.

But something in her chest stirred, a warmth she usually only felt in her midnight fantasies. In her present state of mind, this was dangerous territory. She quickly took a corner of the blanket in each hand and, leaning over him, lightly draped his body with it. As she did this, her eyes caught a glimpse of his mouth, his lower lip protruding slightly, enticing her to stare more closely at it. She'd always wondered what it would feel like to kiss him. She sighed and whispered to herself, "Dana, go to bed. Now." She didn't move. She didn't want to. His lips beckoned her and her resistance was low. Convincing herself there was nothing wrong with kissing him goodnight--people did that all the time, after all--she forced herself to believe that there was nothing but innocence in her motives. That is, if innocence entailed heat burning in her chest to rival the equator and an accelerated pulse.

Her hands still gently poised against his shoulders, she leaned her face closer to his, feeling his steady breath brush across her cheek. Then, she slowly and simply pressed her lips against his, letting them linger for a moment longer than she intended, to sense their softness. Kissing him felt as pleasant and perfect as she imagined. She gently pulled away, more for fear of waking him up than wanting to stop. But, when she moved to get up, she felt his arm snake around her waist in an apparently sleepy gesture. He pulled her against his chest and rested his head atop hers.

Scully's heart pounded for a few scary moments before she realized he was still asleep. She supposed in his slumber he didn't know what he was doing. . .then again, he only put his arm around her. She, pretty much awake, had kissed him. "I kissed Fox Mulder," she whispered to herself to make it somehow more real.

Here she was, having kissed her partner and now wrapped against his warm body. She smiled. It felt nice to be held by him for no other reason except to be held. . .too nice to leave. So, she figured she'd invent an excuse for how they got this way if he should ask come morning. But for now, she took advantage of the moment, settled her head against Mulder's chest and closed her eyes.

An easy sleep captured her quickly--so quickly, she barely heard Mulder whisper against her hair, "Good night." She felt his arm tighten around her back, and again felt more than heard his tickling voice. "You know, Dana, you kiss beautifully."


	2. A Wink and a Smile

**Disclaimer:** X-Files and its characters are owned by 20th Century Fox and Chris Carter. I just borrowed them for a few hours :)

**Author's Note:** I wrote this story and my other _X-Files_ fanfic a number of years ago and thought it time to upload to this community.

**Kiss Goodnight **

**Chapter 2: A Wink and a Smile**

Scully felt the morning sunlight burning against her eyelids, urging them to open, but she felt too well-rested and too comfortable to break her pleasure just yet. She snuggled closer against the couch, questions of why she never made it to bed slowly drifting into her mind and memories of a late night working reminding her. She shifted her head to face another direction and as her mind adjusted to waking up, she became increasingly aware of someone stroking her hair gently. Then, she remembered Mulder, the small gentle kiss, falling asleep in his arms and feeling more relaxed than she ever felt in her life. She allowed her eyes to open and raised her head, meeting his eyes with her own.

"Morning," he whispered.

"Hi," she replied, finally taking in the fact that she was sprawled across his body. "I'm sorry," she said, pushing herself up, afraid she was bothering him.

"Please." He caught her back with his hand. "Don't get up."

"We've got to get ready for work," she said, biting her lower lip.

"Just a few more minutes?" he whispered, his eyes displaying a little bit of hurt. "This feels too nice." He smiled at her and pushed a few loose strands of hair behind her ear.

Though this could be dangerous, especially since she was still sleepy and not completely sensible, a few more minutes certainly couldn't hurt. She returned his smile and responded by laying her head against him and stretching her arms across his shoulders. She felt him nestle one hand in the small of her back while the other held her head. She couldn't remember when she last felt so close to someone, in every possible way, if she ever had. Against her back, she felt his fingers tracing abstract patterns, leaving trails of warmth. She closed her eyes and listened to him. The gentle rhythm of his heartbeat and breathing almost lulled her back to a pleasing, tingling sleep, but she resisted as much as she could, wanting to commit this moment to memory. At one point last night she'd thought she'd need an excuse for why they fell asleep together, but she should have known that really wouldn't matter. Mulder had stayed with her all night holding her because he wanted to, as much as she'd wanted to hold him. She sleepily sighed, taking in the gentle weight of his hand on her back. "You're right," she whispered into his chest, "This does feel nice."

**X X X**

Scully rushed through the security check at F.B.I. Headquarters, hoping to make the elevator. She was nearly an hour late after falling asleep again at home. That plus not completing the report wouldn't please A.D. Skinner, so she hoped she could slip by without seeing him. She sprinted for an open elevator, silently cursing the high heels she wore, as she saw the doors closing. She yelled, "Wait!" lunging forward and thrusting her hand between the doors, only to have them slam against her wrist. A slight pain stung up her arm making her wince. "Damn it," she mumbled, pulling her hand away. But then she noticed someone gripping a door and pushing on it to let her in.

The re-opened doors revealed Mulder, his face contorted in concern. In one breath he blurted, "Are you okay, Scully? I tried to press the 'open' button, but it didn't work and by then it was too late. I didn't see you coming."

"I'm okay, Mulder." Scully rubbed her arm. "It just stings a little."

"Are you sure? Let me see." With that, he took her hand in his and lifted her arm to inspect it. He circled a finger over her wrist then ran it up and down her arm. "Seems okay."

His touch was so light, it tickled her. She found herself watching his inspecting touch as it little by little became a full caressing hand. She smiled. "I told you."

He met her eyes and cocked his head. "You're the doctor." Then, he raised her hand to his face and kissed her palm.

Any lingering pain she might have had disappeared at the touch of his lips. Their eyes were still locked together, and she felt the irrepressible urge to squeeze his hand so he couldn't let go with the childlike notion that the kiss would be sealed between their palms for as long as they remained joined.

The elevator opened, and Mulder smiled at Scully. "Our stop." Still holding her hand, he led her out and guided her towards their office.

The sight of a small note attached to their office door broke Scully's reverie. "Uh, oh."

"Are we in trouble?" Mulder asked.

"Well, not only did we not even start the report for Skinner, we showed up for work an hour late."

Mulder raised his eyebrows and said, "We could just tell him the truth." He paused for a moment, smiling mischievously and locking his eyes with Scully. "That we didn't get anything done because we slept together."

Scully rolled her eyes and pulled on his arm. "Let's go."

**X X X**

Skinner's tirade had seemed to start before Scully and Mulder even entered his office. When they'd approached his secretary's desk, Scully had noticed the noise of pacing footsteps and had thought she'd detected a few choice expletives. After asking the secretary if the Assistant Director was busy and should they come back later, Scully had received a rather unwelcome, "No, he's been waiting for you," along with an embarrased smile. A chivalrous Mulder had offered Scully a 'ladies first' hand gesture which she regretfully took since she ended up being the one Skinner had decided to attack first.

"Agent Scully, explain to me why you and Agent Mulder weren't in your office at 9 this morning."

"Well, sir, I--"

"I don't think you understand." Skinner had stopped his pacing and dropped into his chair with a thud. "There should be no explanation for why I had to come find you to get a report that was supposed to be on my desk. That kind of behavior. . ."

Scully was used to her boss' reprimands by now. Working on cases as strange as the X-Files, she and Mulder received such reprimands on almost a weekly basis. Most of the time, she tuned out most of what Skinner said and simply tried to pay attention if anything significant came up. Since nothing he was saying now seemed of any importance, she focused on the window behind Skinner's desk and the clear blue sky and clouds drifting slowly by. Sunlight shone through in such a way that she could see her reflection in the window as well as Mulder's standing next to her, a few feet away. She watched him, his gaze seeming fixated on Skinner, though not necessarily his full attention. His eyes displayed a defiant glint and his mouth carried his trademark smirk. That and his wrinkled white suit shirt and pants slung lazily over his hips reminded her of the image she'd always had of the boys she'd been taught to avoid while growing up. "Stay away from the rebels, the renegades--they're too unpredictable, too dangerous," so many had said to her in so many ways. For years she'd wondered why they were dangerous, what carnal acts they'd done in their spare time that warranted such a description. It wasn't until she got to know Mulder that she understood that the danger wasn't in the men, but in herself. Thinking of that, she watched his reflection with the full knowledge that she would do anything for this man. The mere sight of him stirred feelings deep within her that she'd never felt for anyone--feelings that made her do things she'd never imagined before knowing him. That, she knew, was the danger and precisely what she loved most about him.

Still focusing her gaze on Mulder's reflection, she studied his face. His smirk had faded and his lower lip pushed out in a pout that reminded her of a little boy in trouble. She smiled and caught Mulder's reflection winking at her own.

Her smile grew.

He winked again.

She felt a giggle coming on, but did her best to repress it since Skinner had moved directly into her field of view.

"Is there something funny about what I've said, Agent Scully?"

She pursed her lips together, still afraid of laughing. "No, sir."

"Well then, I'll ask that you and Agent Mulder play your little games outside the office." Skinner sat on the corner of his desk and waved his arm at them. "Dismissed."

Scully turned quickly and bolted out of the office, followed by Mulder. She passed the secretaries, other agents and offices and didn't stop until she reached the elevators which were a safe distance from the general office hubub. All the winking and smiling in Skinner's office gave way to laughing she couldn't control, and the last thing she needed to overhear was another joke about the odd behavior of Mr. and Mrs. Spooky.

Mulder placed his hand on her shoulder. "You okay there?"

Scully turned to face him, still laughing. "Yeah, it's just no one's played winking games with me since I was about 10. I found it funny."

"I had to do it." He squeezed her shoulder. "I watched you standing there smiling, and I wanted to get your attention."

She playfully touched his tie. "Well, we ended up getting Skinner's attention, too."

"He's just envious." He placed his hand over hers and held it against his chest.

Her laughter subsided as the sensation of his warm chest reminded her of falling asleep with him and waking up with him. "Why?" The memories made her voice unusually quiet.

"He has no one to play little games with outside the office."

She had wondered what Skinner meant by that, besides what Mulder thought he meant.

Mulder bit his lower lip, then grazed his thumb back and forth over her hand. "Are you busy tonight?"

"No."

"How about dinner?"

"Sounds nice."

They stared at each other for what seemed like a glorious eternity to Scully. She felt the already small space between them growing smaller as if one of the unseen paranormal forces they might investigate were pushing them together. She hadn't quite realized when it happened, but they'd grown so close, her whole arm was now pressed between herself and Mulder's chest and she could feel his breath against her face.

Mulder leaned his head towards Scully and whispered against her ear, "I'll pick you up at nine."

She thought she felt his lips brush against her ear, but couldn't be completely sure. She only knew that whether it was a kiss, his breathing, or his whisper, it simply felt wonderful.


	3. Anxiety Attacks

**Disclaimer:** X-Files and its characters are owned by 20th Century Fox and Chris Carter. I just borrowed them for a few hours :)

**Author's Note:** I wrote this story and my other _X-Files_ fanfic a number of years ago and thought it time to upload to this community.

**Kiss Goodnight **

**Chapter 3: Anxiety Attacks**

Scully finished blow-drying her hair after a quick shower. It was nearly 8:45 p.m., and Mulder was picking her up for dinner at 9. She normally never ran late, but after work she'd decided to stop at the mall to see if there were any nice dresses she could get for tonight. Her own closet lacked a good supply of 'evening' clothes, and she always felt prettier when she wore something new. After two department stores, three specialty shops, and a boutique, she'd finally found a burgundy velvet dress that even under the fluorescent lighting from hell had flattered her.

"Oh my God, you just have to get that," a woman had said when Scully had come out of the dressing room.

"You think so?" Scully asked craning her neck to see the back of the dress.

"God, yes." The woman eyed her up and down and continued, "Whatever man you intend that for will be lucky to keep his eyesight."

"Oh, he's just a co-worker, a friend really, a close. . ." Scully looked in the mirror and saw the woman smiling. "A very close friend."

"Well, honey, wear that and he'll be a lot more." The woman had then disappeared into a dressing room, her statement left hanging in the air.

Remembering all of that, Scully turned off the hairdryer and gazed at herself in the mirror. In the soft lighting of her bedroom, she noticed the dress clinging to her body more tightly than she'd noticed in the store. Suddenly, the neckline revealed more of her breasts than she'd been aware of. Suddenly, the hem seemed to rest unsafely between her knees and hips. Suddenly, she realized that she hadn't worn a dress like this in more than a year--not since the last time she went on a date. "A date," she whispered. She ran her hand over her hair, amazed at the thought of that word, its dual simplicity and complexity.

But this wasn't a date, she told herself, staring blankly at the mirror. She and Mulder were simply going to have dinner together, to eat together like they had so many times before. So she had no real reason to worry about how she looked. That woman in the store knew nothing of her relationship with Mulder and had no grounds for her belief that she was trying to impress him at all. She merely wanted to look nice for once in her life, and it was by pure coincidence that the occasion she chose was when she was going out with Mulder.

Scully leaned towards the mirror and touched up the dusting of makeup she'd quickly applied before drying her hair. She glided a layer of deep-red lipstick over her mouth then pressed her lips together to smooth out the texture. Staring at her reflection intently for a few moments, she finally decided to fill in the beauty mark she normally kept hidden above her upper lip. She backed away from the mirror and ran her eyes up and down her form, whispering to herself, "Finished."

The clock struck nine, and a thought occurred that she might have overestimated how formal this outing was. After all, Mulder had only said, "How about dinner?"--he could have meant he was bringing something over. But the tenor of his question hadn't been that casual--at least, what Scully had inferred from it. At the time it seemed to her to have the natural formality of a man asking a woman on a date. But this couldn't be a date because this was Mulder. But this had to be a date because of how she was dressed. But it couldn't be a date because a date entailed certain outcomes, certain sexual outcomes.

Mulder turned off the ignition and glanced at himself in the rearview mirror once before getting out of the car. He gathered up the small bouquet of flowers he had gotten for Scully and suddenly began to feel very uneasy. As he walked to the building he could feel his self confidence slowly drifting away. She'd only chastely kissed him goodnight, even thinking he'd been asleep, no matter how good it felt. After all what did he think that made this. . .a date? He stared at the little red, pink, and white buds in his hand and acknowledged that they were certainly date accessories. But, he thought, it could technically be a date--he wore his best suit and least strange tie. But Scully would've never agreed to a real date so it couldn't be. Plus men and women did things on dates that he'd admittedly dreamt of doing with Scully, but dreams and reality were separate existences. He had meant to ask her out for a serious dinner--the best way he could think of fusing at least the most innocent of his dreams with reality--but what if she was just expecting him to bring over a pizza? What was he thinking to show up at her door without a pizza and with flowers instead! She's going to think he's been doped up again. Though after letting her sleep against his chest last night, asking her to stay there in the morning, and winking at her in the office, she probably already thought he was insane. Mulder was losing his nerve, and as he walked into the building presented the flowers to an elderly lady who was walking out. She told him that he looked very handsome and that the nice red-haired lady would think so too. He smoothed the front of his suit jacket.

Oh God, he was too over dressed. . .he checked his watch--8:58pm. . .damn! Not enough time to go home and change. He could just see it now. . .she'd answer the door in an old t-shirt and sweatpants, ask him why he's wearing a suit to eat pizza, then stare at him the rest of the night with that 'I'm-worried-about-you-Mulder' look on her face. Staring at the doorbell, Mulder took a deep breath and pushed it. If he was right about this he was never, ever leaving his apartment again.

At the sound of the doorbell, Scully jumped. "Oh, God," she breathed, a trail of sexual images of Mulder born out of her last thought blazing through her mind, leaving her stomach twisting into knots. She walked out of her bedroom to answer the door, deliberately stalling in an attempt to clear her head of the barrage of memories of the past day--kissing him innocently and sleepily, waking up in his arms comfortably, the brush of his breath across her ear when he'd asked her to dinner. All at once, she remembered every sensation of his touch, of his body pressed against hers, of his smell. These thoughts overwhelmed her, weakening her knees as she dragged her feet closer to the front door. After all that had happened, she wondered why now, at the precise moment Fox Mulder stood outside her door, pressing her doorbell with his long, lean fingers, all her internal organs were erupting in mass explosions. Then, she knew that except for last night when she allowed herself the pleasure of an innocent kiss under the pretext that she was too tired to be sensible, she had always subconsciously and successfully imprisoned any sexual feelings for Mulder in a small cage in the back of her mind. Now that she allowed those feelings a moment of freedom in her conscious mind, without lack of sleep or a nighttime fantasy as an excuse, she couldn't ignore them. Though to save herself the first time embarrassment of looking him in the eye while simultaneously fantasizing about him, she'd have to ignore him.

She grasped the doorknob and opened the door, greeted by Mulder in a charcoal gray suit that made him look like he stepped out of an Armani catalogue. She felt grateful her instincts to dress up had been right, but catching a glimpse of the silver-gray sparkle in his eyes made her wish otherwise.

Ignoring him would be hell, and not ignoring him would be an equal hell.

Mulder smiled. "Hi," he managed, his voice sandpapery. He shoved his hands in his pockets like a teenage boy on his first date. He chewed his lower lip and continued, "You look amazing." He smiled again, a lopsided grin this time.

She licked her lips and swallowed, trying to avoid eye contact. "Thanks." Her eyes darted back and forth and up and down, having difficulty in finding a place on Mulder that she couldn't fantasize about. "I just have to get my purse." She spun around and moved for the coffee table.

"Scully, wait a second."

She felt his hand land on her shoulder.

"Your tag is sticking out here," Mulder breathed. He slid his hand across her shoulder and paused at her neck before gliding his fingertips against her skin along the dress' low-cut collar. His fingers momentarily dipped inside the dress, pushing the tag down. "There," he whispered.

Scully closed her eyes and tried to control her breathing. She felt his fingers linger at her neck and thought she detected a gentle caress. Summoning strength, she resisted the urge to lean into his hand and waited for him to move away. Two days ago, she thought, his fixing her dress tag would have been the simplest and most meaningless of events on earth. Leave it to her own scientific mind to complicate matters by analyzing and thinking about an otherwise mundane task. Plus, she couldn't guarantee that his intentions were anything more than fixing her dress, no matter how much they affected her. And the possibility of his intentions having other meanings was too overwhelming to consider.

Mulder pulled his hand away and said, "Ready?"

Scully pursed her lips together and managed a "Mmm hmm."

Something was changing and changing very fast.


	4. How Coincidental

**Disclaimer:** X-Files and its characters are owned by 20th Century Fox and Chris Carter. I just borrowed them for a few hours :)

**Author's Note:** I wrote this story and my other _X-Files_ fanfic a number of years ago and thought it time to upload to this community.

**Kiss Goodnight Chapter 4: How Coincidental**

"Dance with me."

"Here? In front of all these people?" Scully's eyes darted around the crowded restaurant and skimmed the dance floor, where she noticed in particular, the couples clinging to each other. After a long, seemingly silent drive, they'd arrived at the restaurant somewhat early for the reservations Mulder had made. Since they didn't have a table yet, there weren't many options except for standing in the lobby or dancing and with the tension this evening had thrust upon her, she wasn't sure she could stand either. The lobby meant conversation for which she wasn't prepared and dancing was, well, dancing. As wonderful as it was to fantasize about that, she couldn't stand that close to Mulder, at least not tonight. She couldn't trust temptation.

He touched her shoulder. "Why not here?" His voice grew quiet with disappointment.

"I can't dance." That wasn't entirely true, but with Mulder, it could be. She couldn't dance with him like she did with her brothers, nor could she dance with him like those couples sweeping across the floor.

"Is that all?"

Even without looking at him, she knew he was smiling; the playful lilt in his words gave it away. He was up to something.

He grabbed her hand and led her outside. "Come on."

Scully followed him, his pace as quick as a little boy running to show his friend a secret place. Though what secret place he'd show her, she didn't know, and as her imagination ran wild with the inherent innuendo of her thoughts she made the mistake of gazing at his body as he ran. Her chest warmed at the sight of his muscles contracting in his shoulders; she forced herself to stare at the rose-flecked wallpaper to catch her breath. These were feelings she wasn't used to--ones she didn't quite know what to do with.

He led her out of the restaurant lobby and down a small dimly-lit corridor. When they reached a glass door he let go of her hand and said, "Here we are," pushing the door open and gesturing her to move outside.

When she did, she stood on a pier overlooking the Chesapeake, its diagonal wooden boards running the length of the restaurant. The sky was perfectly clear, with several stars glistening against its black surface like diamonds. "This is beautiful," she whispered. She felt his hand against her back and walked with him a few steps more to the pier's center. She turned to face him, somewhat puzzled. "Why are we here?"

He nodded to the restaurant. "They use this for dancing, but it's closed now in the off-season. But, since the weather's kind of nice, I thought I could teach you here." He ended with a nervous smile. "Away from the crowd."

"Teach me?"

"To dance. You said you couldn't." He bit his lower lip and settled his gaze on her.

She smiled and raised her eyebrows. "You're teaching me how to dance?" It was so like Mulder to feel he knew how to do everything and how to show other people how to do it as well. She studied his eyes and noticed the same sparkle he had when he developed some new theory he knew she'd challenge. This situation she could handle. When she knew what to expect, she could handle Mulder. She could definitely handle some cute little scene with toe-stepping and 'no-your-hand-goes-here' reminders. Her stomach knots didn't fade, but they loosened their grip, and she pursed her lips together. She summoned her composure and stated, "Okay, teach me."

"Close your eyes."

"Excuse me?"

He placed his hands near the sides of her face, but paused there. "Dancing's a feeling, not an art," he whispered. Then, he ran his thumbs over her eyelids, pushing them closed. "You need to lose focus."

The second he touched her eyes she'd already lost focus. She should have known--Mulder had passion for everything--she'd always felt it. Dancing would be no exception. She lost the composure she'd so desperately searched for, and her body tensed. She could feel him moving closer. Did he have any idea of what he was doing to her?

She felt his hands rest on her shoulders and then journey down her arms slowly like a trail of hot liquid. He twined his fingers with her right hand, and with a gentle nudge, her chest came into contact with his.

"Put your arm around me," he breathed near her ear.

Unable to process any other thoughts, Scully complied, sliding her arm around his waist so lightly, the fabric of his suit coat tickled her fingertips. She felt the weight of his arm cradle her shoulders, and barely acknowledging that no music played, except for perhaps the crashing of the waves below them, she moved with him when he swayed her body with his. She had no idea of what any of it meant but simply pressed her face against his chest and relaxed into his embrace.

Mulder whispered in her ear, "And you said you couldn't dance."

"Well," she said, her throat constricting, "you're a good teacher." She looked up at him and discovered him staring at her, his gaze boring right through her. She bit her lower lip and gave a quick smile.

He kept watching her, studying her face, seeming to take in every curve, every color until his gaze rested on her lips. "What's this?" he asked, nodding towards her.

She had to fight the knots in her stomach in order to answer. "What?" Her voice was so weak, it scared her.

"This," he repeated. He released her hand and moved his towards her face, extending his index finger and pressing it lightly against her upper lip.

"Beauty mark," she managed, hoping that's what he meant and that she didn't have dirt or makeup or something on her face that he noticed.

"It's pretty. You shouldn't hide it." He ran his finger across her lips.

The multiple sensations overwhelmed her. She rested her free hand against his chest, and when she realized it, was afraid of moving any more. Her breathing became rapid and she felt him closing whatever space remained between them. This was unbelievable.

"Ahem."

Scully blinked and saw Mulder turn his head.

"Um, excuse me," a busboy shouted, "You're not supposed to be out here." He straightened his apron and continued, "It's closed."

Scully pulled away from Mulder and sighed. She looked at the gangly teenage busboy who threw her a grin and felt her face heat up instantly in embarrassment.

"Sorry," Mulder mumbled. He turned back to Scully and gestured to the door. "Well, I guess we should be ordering, anyway."

"Mulder, will you take me home?" The words sprung out of her mouth faster than she intended. There was no way she'd make it through dinner, feeling lightheaded and nauseous as she did.

"You okay, Scully?" Mulder placed his hand on her shoulder, and she stiffened.

"Yeah, I just. . ." He was only inches away from her, his smell, breath,

presence and everything about him overloading her capacity to think. She walked to the door and attempted to finish. "I just want to go home.

"Okay," he stated, his voice low and disappointed. "Let's go."

**X X X**

They didn't speak through the car ride back to Scully's apartment. After dancing with him, she couldn't see how she could say anything, as a result of both the physical reactions coursing through her body and her general embarrassment at having such reactions. Plus, Mulder didn't seem interested in talking anyway. He spent the entire time in the car with his gaze focused straight ahead and his hands gripped so tightly to the steering wheel that his fingertips turned red. While she watched the passing cars and brightly lit city skyscrapers drift by, she wasn't sure if she should be grateful for Mulder's apparent attitude or unhappy with it. Actually, she wasn't quite sure how she should feel herself. So much had happened over the past day or so, so many feelings unleashed, that her world seemed beyond comprehension. She needed to get away from him, to figure out what was going on. She needed to stop wondering what would have happened if the busboy had never shown up.

Mulder pulled into the driveway and spoke for the first time since they left the restaurant. "I'll walk you to your door," he stated. With that he got out of the car, went to her side and opened her door.

They walked the few short steps to her door together, and as Scully fished around for her keys in her purse she noticed Mulder waited behind her. He wanted to see her safely in, she knew. She expected him to leave after her abrupt ending of his dinner plans, but he had to be so damn chivalrous sometimes. She finally found the key and shoved it in the door successfully, despite the shaking in her hands. She turned to face him and closed her eyes, offering a weak smile. "Sorry."

"It's okay." He shoved his hands in his pockets. "See you later."

He'd turned to leave, but something within her wouldn't let him go. In one quick motion, she moved her face to his and pressed her lips against him. But, in the heat of the moment, she forgot the height difference and ended up with her mouth against his chin.

"Um, Scully, if you're trying to do what I think you're trying to do, you're a little low."

She turned away and fumbling with the knob, opened the door. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God," she chanted over and over. She sauntered into the apartment, her eyes squeezed shut and her head facing the floor. "What the hell am I doing?" she whispered to herself, oblivious to Mulder following her inside.

"You were kissing me," he helpfully stated.

Scully turned and stared straight at him.

"For the second time in the past 24 hours, I might add."

He knew about the other night. She closed her eyes and waited for the world to disintegrate around her.

"You know, Scully," Mulder said, stopping to clear his throat, "it might be a lot better if you let me participate."

Her eyes flew open, and she was no longer sure of how long she could stand without falling. His eyes burned holes straight through her soul even with the sarcastic edge to his voice. Damn him for making a joke of everything. There was only one thing she could say. "Mulder, get out."

His head dropped in surprise. "What?"

"Leave." She grabbed his arm and ushered him to the door, grateful he seemed to be complying until she felt his hand grip her shoulder.

"What the hell's this about?"

She tried to restrain herself from shouting, but barely made it. "Nothing, it's nothing." She shoved her hair behind her ears and attempted to continue. "I'm just damn tired, okay? Will you just go?" She pushed on his arm and tried to pull from his grasp. "Just leave me alone!"

"No, I won't." His grip only tightened.

"No?" She repeated, not even sure why she'd begun yelling and couldn't think of what to say next.

"I don't want to leave you alone." His voice sang soft and breathy. His hand caressed her shoulder while he inched closer to her. "You've already kissed me twice. The way I see it, I have to stay until I can repay the favor."

He used a mild tone to calm her, and it worked. The anger she'd feigned to try to make him leave faded, instead converting into a burning in the pit of her stomach. "What are you doing?" she asked, moving away from him until her back encountered a wall. Her voice was barely audible, and attempting to speak again would probably not work. His chest pressed against her, and she felt her heart beating and his as well.

He lowered his head to her ear. "I want to hold you before I leave." He pressed his lips against her ear and then her neck, sending sparks of warmth through her body. He continued, "Like this morning."

Mulder slid his arms around her until one hand rested on her lower back and the other against her head--the same places he'd touched when they'd woken up together that morning. But, now the sensation wasn't just a familiar comfortable feeling, but a strange heat that crept from his hands through her skin and into every part of her. She closed her eyes and tried to focus on something, anything, but couldn't. "Mulder," she breathed against his chest. She opened her eyes and felt him pull away slightly.

When she moved her gaze to his face, he was millimeters from her. After the longest, most intense second of her life, his lips fell upon hers. His actions overwhelmed her so much, she couldn't respond, but instead let him kiss her. She loved how warm he felt, how gentle and innocent his kiss was. His lips merely pressed against hers, unmoving and thus, apparently nervous. They stood there like that, frozen in place like a photograph, for a few moments until a shaky sensation coursed through her. Scully rested her hands on Mulder's waist and slowly gave in to the growing urge to move her mouth on his.

As she parted her lips slightly, she felt Mulder sigh and his arm tighten around her back. Soon, they were lost in their kisses, exploring and releasing the tension that had built over the past day. His tongue grazed her lips and traced her mouth's outline, accidentally meeting her own tongue in the process. Scully pulled away gently and backed her face away from his.

"If you still want me to leave," he began, his voice caught somewhat in his throat, "I'd hate to think of how you say goodnight to guys you like." He smiled and settled his eyes on her.

It had been such a long time since she'd been kissed like that that Scully didn't know how to respond. The sensations of his touch still overwhelmed her, and she wasn't sure she could speak if she tried. Everything she tried to think of failed her, so she finally decided to go on instinct and simply talk so she wouldn't be standing there gaping at him as she now was.

"I love you."

She couldn't have spoken sooner since Mulder's hand had reached for the doorknob, but froze at her statement.

For once in her life she'd decided not to think and for once, the truth at it purest form came out. She did love him, wholly and completely, more than anyone or anything in the world and elsewhere. Finally saying those words made her knees shake with release; but his growing silence made her shake more in fear.

He turned his face to her and grinned. "How coincidental." He reached out and caressed her face.

She smiled and placed her hand over his.

He winked.

She smiled again and brushed her lips on his, feeling him do the same.

"I told you," he whispered, pulling her into an embrace. "I'm much better when you let me participate."

END


End file.
